


Of Chestnut Horses

by Rasiaa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Horses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 01:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12048198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasiaa/pseuds/Rasiaa
Summary: When Lily left for Hogwarts, Harry felt like he lost his little girl forever. Seven years pass, and he realizes that maybe he was wrong.





	Of Chestnut Horses

**Author's Note:**

> My mom was talking about how she's panicked over Christmas already and it sparked this idea. Also for the Crayola Color challenge on the HPCF

If there was one thing Lily adored more than anything else, it was the horses that could occasionally be seen outside her bedroom window, pulling carriages.

At seventeen, Harry had expected that it would change by now, but it seemed his little girl was still as enamored as she always had been.

"Dad?"

He hums and glances up, his glasses slipping. He shoves them up his nose absently, and it takes him a second to focus on his only daughter. It seems like his prescription is getting to be too weak. As he grows older, it keeps happening, and he's replaced three pairs of glasses in as many years.

Lily takes a seat across from him, and twirls her hair- the same shade of orange-red as Ginny's- around her finger. "I saw an ad in the muggle paper, advertising a Christmas festival on Christmas Eve in London proper. Do you want to go?"

He smiles at her, and he nods. "Sounds wonderful, Lily. I'll see about inviting everyone else?"

She shakes her head. "I, ah. Thought it would be nice to spend the day with you, actually. We never do that anymore."

For a moment, Harry is simply blown away. He allows himself a second to feel like crying, but pulls himself together enough to nod. Lily lights up like the sun and stands, running around the table. Harry turns and catches her as she throws her arms around his neck.

It's in this moment that he feels like his little girl isn't so out of reach anymore.

…

When James went to Hogwarts, it was hard. Hard because that was his little boy, and he was gone, and though Harry had gone through something similar with Teddy, it was a bit different with James. Teddy lived part time with Andromeda after all, so it wasn't like Harry saw his godson all the time anyway. But James- James was flesh and blood, and he'd been the size of Harry's forearm just the day prior.

And then when Allie went two years later, it was difficult, but still not as hard as it had been with James. He and Allie had never really connected like he had with James, and his biggest concern for his youngest son was that the boy would be left ostracized. And as Albus had boarded that train, he had known the boy would never be a Gryffindor. And he worried so much that he made himself sick well into the morning.

But when Lily left, he was devastated. He didn't show it and none of his children caught on, not even Allie, the brightest of the three, but when he got home that day, he shattered in Ginny's arms. And she knew, she understood, that even though they tried to keep everything equal, Harry had always connected with Lily better than he ever had with James or Albus. James and Albus were Ginny's boys, and Lily was Harry's little girl, and that was always understood between the two of them.

…

"Hey, Dad? What about that?"

He glances over, taking the wrapped package from the shop clerk with a smile. He tucks the last minute gift into his pocket as he walks over to Lily, laying his hand on her shoulder. "What is it?"

"Do you reckon Aunt Hermione would appreciate that?"

She points to a whirling device that he vaguely recognizes as a muggle carousal, adorned with little seats and people. It's painted red and gold, with white at the top to mimic snow. He takes in a deep breath and breathes out slowly, nodding. "She probably would," he agrees.

Lily perks up noticeably. "Thank Merlin you agree," she says breathlessly. "I haven't got anything for Aunt Hermione yet and I was worried about tomorrow."

Harry laughs. "You're the artist of the family, Lily. I'm sure you could've painted something tonight."

"I was going to," Lily confesses. "D'you think I still should?"

"I think she'd like that a lot."

By this point they've entered the shop, all filled with people and other similar trinkets, and Lily makes a beeline for the window, grabbing a box with another copy of the displayed carousal and walking back over. "That all you want to look at here?" Harry checks, and when she nods, he takes the box to the register.

…

"Dad!"

Lily grabs his arm in excitement and points, nearly jumping in her joy. He follows her gaze and laughs under his breath as he catches sight of the advertised carriage ride. He doesn't have time to say anything before he's being dragged to it, arms heavy with bags.

Lily pays for the ride just as he catches up to her, and she takes some of the bags so he can climb in after her. He glances at the chestnut horses, amused over her cooing at them. "Aren't they darling?" she says.

"Yes," he says, and she pays him no mind.

Not until the ride is nearly over, anyway. She's been chattering about all sorts of things without really looking at him for the whole hour long ride, anything from her grades at Hogwarts, to her friends and ex-boyfriend as of last week, to Albus and James and Ginny, the horses, what she plans on wearing to Molly and Arthur's tomorrow for the holiday, and on and on and on. Harry, for his part, just sits and watches, light in a way he hasn't felt in a while.

When there's ten minutes of the ride left, Lily seemingly exhausts herself, and she leans on his shoulder, still watching the snow as it falls.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders absently, and he's just glad she suggested this. It's true that they haven't had much time together in years, seems like.

And the more he thinks on it, the more depressed he feels, so he shoves the thoughts away and focuses on her.

"Dad?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

"What for?"

"All of it."

He doesn't ask for any elaboration beyond that.

…

She leaves for the second half of her seventh year a week later and he cries when she's gone.

Ginny understands.

James and Albus are gone too, and the house is empty.

He heads up to the attic to get his mind off the silence, but it doesn't really work.

He finds a few hand-drawn pictures from when the kids were young, and he grins when he sees the childish rendition of the chestnut horses from outside her window on Lily's paper.


End file.
